Interruptions
by AnnieXMuller
Summary: A series of stand-alone chapters, in which Alexis has quite the knack for interrupting Castle and Beckett's quiet time. Post-Always. Season 5.
1. Chapter 1

The door was kicked open, and they stumbled through. Arms wrapped around one another, lips moving against lips, eyes locked on eyes, skin flushed. Any awareness of their surroundings was limited at best. They had crossed the threshold, clawing and holding on, breathing heavy and loud, still blissfully unaware that they were not alone.

Alexis stood near the kitchen, a laundry basket balanced against her hip, held tight to her with both hands. Her blue eyes were wide, her mouth agape - in terror. And oh god she had to speak before they started tearing the clothes off their bodies, but the mortification of the moment left her as immobile as a statue, and just as mute. She shifted the basket against her hip, briefly considered just ducking behind the kitchen counter as they carried on through the loft to her father's bedroom. But what if they didn't make it that far. What if they only made it as far as the couch, and she had to squeeze her eyes shut, block her ears, and attempt astral projection to get as far away from it all as possible. Oh, God. What if they only made it to the kitchen counter, Detective Beckett sat on top of it, and... She needed to speak. Now.

They were making out like horny teenagers right in front of her, oblivious to her presence, while they struggled to get the door closed without losing the contact, and there was just no way this was going to end well for her. It was going to result in therapy. Years and years of therapy.

"Dad," she squeaked out.

Castle and Beckett froze. Separated. Flew apart. Castle spun around to face his daughter, while Beckett smoothed her hair, clutched at her shirt to keep it together, and attempted to hide the fact she was aroused as fuck in the presence of her partner's daughter. She dared not shift her gaze from the spot her eyes were fixated upon on the floor, but she suspected Castle's own arousal may be more difficult to hide. Oh, God. How were they going to talk their way out of this? How was she ever going to face Alexis again? And why hadn't they been smart enough to double check the house was empty before groping one another!

"Pumpkin," Castle replied in a voice so calm he had no idea where he'd summoned it from. He was feeling anything but calm.

Alexis' wide blue eyes held her father's for a moment. She wanted to smirk, make some lame joke, but neither came. She dropped the basket to the floor, grabbed her purse off the counter, and forced her legs to stop betraying her and get her out of the loft.

"I'll, uh, finish that later," she forced the words out, keeping her voice as steady as she could manage. "Bye, Dad." The words rushed out of her mouth as she hastily made her way towards the door. "Good to see you again, Detective Beckett." She pulled the door closed behind her, and kept walking. How was she going to scrub that image out of her brain. And how was she ever going to face either one of them again. No, no it could have been worse. She made herself believe it. Yes. She could have caught them in bed together. See. Silver lining.

Beckett was still staring at Castle, her face as pale as someone who had just had a bucket of ice-cold water dumped over their head. It had been a while since she had felt quite that humiliated. "I feel like I'm sixteen again and just got busted by my parents," she told him, her voice cracking.

Castle blinked a couple of times, his eyes locked on the abandoned laundry basket. "I think I just did."

* * *

**AN: This is definitely a 2-shot, potentially more if I have time. Reviews are love.**


	2. Chapter 2

Saturday. The crispness of Autumn filled the air as Alexis hurried home. Home. It was still the loft, her college dorm only temporary and nowhere near as familiar and safe.

She was bubbling over with excitement, full of so many stories to tell her father about college life. She had so much to catch him up on. He had been so good at giving her space, but she was missing him terribly.

* * *

Castle's fingertips danced over Kate's skin. A rare Saturday off was not to be wasted, and he'd be damned if she was leaving his bed anytime soon. The sheets were bunched at the end of the bed; smiling, Kate had helped push them down the bed and out of the way late last night. The intensity of the evening's activities, and the body heat they had shared all night, meant neither had made a move that morning to cover their naked bodies with unnecessary bedding.

He drew lazy patterns on her body, wrote a story of their love with just the brush of his fingertips upon her skin. His lips punctuated the end of each sentence, before his fingers traced letters again.

Kate sighed as the novel covered her abdomen; his hand moved lower as each word became a sentence, became a paragraph. Her thighs rubbed together, desperate for friction to ease the heat building in her, heat that was steadily turning into a low throbbing ache of arousal, which was both frustrating and wonderful.

Lower still he moved, tantalizingly slow, as he teased her.

* * *

"Dad?" Alexis' voice filtered into the bedroom from his office.

Shit. His fingers left Kate's skin, and he glanced up to meet her wide eyes. He hadn't forgotten. Except, he totally had. Kate having a Saturday off work had thrown his days of the week off. Up until now they hadn't been blessed with such a late Friday night, with the promise of it carrying on long after Kate would have normally already left for work on the weekend.

Kate moved at lightening speed into a sitting position, seconds from ripping the sheet from the end of the bed, wrapping it around herself, and bolting into his en-suite to hide. He placed a hand on her arm, keeping her anchored in place, shaking his head. She pulled the sheet up, tucking it under one side of her body, handing him a corner so he could cover himself, but she stayed put. She wouldn't make it to the bathroom in time, anyway.

The doorknob turned, the door began to open.

"Alexis! Freeze!"

Alexis froze instantly. Hand on the doorknob, the door barely open an inch, but wide enough to hear the absolute fear in her father's voice. Wait. No. No, no, no. Wasn't Detective Beckett supposed to be at the precinct already? Alexis silently swore she knew her routine. She had made sure she did. Eleven in the morning on a Saturday. No, Detective Beckett wasn't supposed to be there.

"Sweetie, I am begging you not to open that door any wider."

Oh, God. They were in bed. She could handle this like an adult. It wasn't like she had seen anything – except in her head.

That was going to take some erasing.

"We had a lunch date, Dad!" She reminded him from behind the barrier of the thick door, her voice carrying through the small crack she didn't dare make wider. "You promised."

"And I am keeping my promise. You just gotta close that door and give me five minutes."

Covers pulled up to her chin, every inch of her covered except her face, Kate turned her head and cocked an eyebrow. "Five minutes?" She mouthed. She frowned. That wasn't nearly enough time for what she had been planning.

His face crumpled, and he shrugged in defeat. "Sorry," he mouthed back.

Alexis was silent for a moment, before accepting the time frame. "Five minutes, Dad," she replied calmly. Feeling a little brave, a little cocky, she added, "Good morning, Detective Beckett."

Kate blanched. "Good morning, Alexis," she replied in a voice little more than a squeak. The door closed again, and once it had Kate slipped the covers completely over her head and moaned, half in mortification and half in frustration.

Castle peeked under the sheet at her, grinning at her embarrassment. "You coming with us?" He asked.

Kate shook her head stubbornly. "No. I'm just going to hide under here, never to face your daughter ever again."

Castle pulled the covers from off her face, leaned over, and kissed her down-turned lips. "Tonight we pick this up where we left off," he promised once they had separated.

"At my apartment," Kate told him firmly. They were just one encounter away from her having to pay for therapy – for both her and Alexis.

* * *

Alexis sat quietly at the kitchen counter, pretending to read a book as she regained her composure, attempting to act blasé about what had almost just happened. She tore her eyes from the words she hadn't been taking in, and glanced around the loft. It was still familiar, still home, but, even with her roommate's promiscuous ways, maybe her dorm was safer after all.

* * *

**AN: No, I don't think Alexis is this stupid. But go with it, for the sake of the story. **

**I'm leaving this as incomplete, because I have a few more ideas running around my brain. A little more likely than this one too, to be honest. Will try to churn one of them out tomorrow **


	3. Chapter 3

**Timeline: Takes place prior to the previous two chapters, roughly two weeks after _Always_**

* * *

Alexis removed the scratched, plastic eye protection, peeled off her scrubs, and slipped off her gloves. She was exhausted. The case was proving particularly difficult. A child. Too young.

Her father had tried to shield it from her, but her stubbornness had won, and she had stood by Lanie's side, determined to help catch a murderer, and bring a heart-broken family at least a little peace.

But it wouldn't happen today. So, she was leaving now, Lanie having all but shoved her out of the morgue, and ordered her to go home and get some sleep. They could study their findings with fresh eyes in the morning.

Alexis knew she needed her dad tonight. She needed an evening of lighthearted fun. They had been ticking off their Summer Blowout list since her graduation, but most were daytime activities. Tonight might have to be something traditional.

Making her way to the Twelfth, Alexis considered the distractions. She could drag him out to a movie (she would let him choose, and the sillier the better), or stay home and continue their Laser Tag game (she might even let him win a round, just to laugh at his victory dance). Summer was yet to even start but the heat of the late-Spring days left the nights sticky and uncomfortable. The roof was well-lit - and she _knew _he had some water balloons hidden in the bottom drawer in his office. She may have been exhausted, but she needed to do _something _tonight, anything to get her mind off the victim's face, age, cause of death.

It was only a little after six in the evening, and her father was still at the precinct, helping the detectives with paperwork, or so he claimed. She knew what his idea of "helping" could be, and doubted he was doing any of the actual paperwork. She had never seen her father look twice at a DD-5, or any reports for that matter. Doodling on the dry-erase board was more likely.

She entered the bullpen, to find Detectives Esposito and Ryan sitting at their desks, heads down, pens scrawling. As she approached them her eyes found the now clean dry-erase board. Well, clean bar for the green sketch of _The Incredible Hulk_ in one corner. Either her father was disgruntled about something, or green had been the only color Beckett had allowed him to play with.

She stopped at Ryan's desk, and smiled as he looked up at her. "Seen my dad?"

Ryan pointed to the opposite side of the room. "Break-room."

"Thanks." She scurried off, eager to drag her father away from the stuffy, suffocating, stale air of the precinct.

* * *

Already out of ear-shot, her back to them, she didn't see Esposito look sharply at Ryan, didn't hear his hissed, "Dude! I don't think Beckett and Castle are really making coffee in there." At Ryan's blank look, he added, "I think they're making _something else_."  
Ryan paled. "You mean they're? That.. They.."

Esposito nodded.

"Why did no one tell me this?" Ryan lamented.

* * *

Alexis had been hit by her second wind. The exhaustion had faded, to be replaced with excitement. Water pistols on the roof sounded like a most excellent idea. Stopping at the closed break-room door, she didn't look through the glass, just turned the handle and threw the door wide open... The large smile dropped instantly from her face. Her eyes bugged wide, and her eyebrows almost connected with her hairline.

No. No, no, no.

This was _not _happening. Alexis frowned in spite of the disgust washing over her. Wait, _how long _had this been happening? No. She didn't need to know, and oh god she did not need to be seeing this.

This. Detective Beckett pressed up against the coffee machine, her hands in the back pockets of his pants, pulling his body flush against hers as he sucked on her neck, his hands in all sorts of obscene places.

And oh God, did her father just growl? Did Kate just moan?

With a squeak, Alexis pulled the door closed soundly, and retreated hastily back into the bullpen.

* * *

Kate retracted her hands from Castle's pockets, and moved her head to glance around at the sound of the door slamming, to see a flash of red hair trailing past the break-room windows in a blur. "Shit. Castle." She pushed him off her, and looked at him with wide, panicked eyes. "Tell me you've told Alexis about us."

Castle looked at her in surprise. The arousal filling his eyes vanished at the mention of his daughter's name. "Not, uh, not as such, no."

"Well she knows now," she said. She leaned back against the coffee machine and groaned in despair.

* * *

Alexis rushed through the precinct, ignoring Esposito's calls as she passed them, ignoring her father calling her name, ignoring it all as she hurried to the elevator. She stepped into the elevator and punched the button continuously until the doors closed on both her father and Detective Beckett's apologetic and concerned faces. She collapsed back against the wall, and rubbed a palm over her eyes, trying to rid them of the image burned into her retinas.

* * *

"Huh," Ryan began, watching the drama unfold around him. "I wasn't the last to know after all."

* * *

**AN: I am pleading with you to just accept, for the sake of this chapter, that Beckett went crawling back to Gates, and both she and Espo ended up on administrative leave for two weeks. Please and thank you :-)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Timeline: Some time during Alexis' freshman year at College.  
**

* * *

The restaurant was busy, full of well-to-do patrons dressed to the nines on a Saturday evening. She was the youngest person in the room, and she felt it in the way they all looked at her. She wasn't not even old enough to drink; she shouldn't have been there.

But there was more to the questions in their eyes, more to the stolen glances and less-than-subtle whispers behind menus.

No. She shouldn't have been there - with him.

It was too late to flee, too late to do anything but look like she belonged on his arm as he led her to their table. So she walked with a confidence she didn't feel, and tried to block out the faces around her.

Was this a common sight?

Was she simply the latest in a long line of college students that he had dined with?

Was it clear to everyone she was dating someone more than twenty years her senior? Someone old enough to be her father. Someone older than her own father...

Oh, God. What was she doing?

* * *

Castle held the door open for Kate, and she entered the restaurant first. His hand rested on her back, guiding her in, and she smiled at how familiar and right it felt.

They had been in a relationship for months now, but it was rare for them to get out on an actual date. When they did manage it, however, he always went all out for her. He didn't need to impress her, but she wasn't going to complain. She had been wanting to eat at this particular restaurant for _years_.

The maitre d' led them to their table beside the large windows, and she sat opposite Castle, his view of nothing more than a wall behind her chair, while hers was of the rest of the patrons at the tables beside the window.

And then her eye caught something too familiar, something bothersome and awkward. A redhead, pulling out of a heavy and passionate kiss with an older man. A redhead with familiar blue eyes, staring in horror at her. The eyes disappeared behind a menu held up in front of her face, but it was too late.

Beckett snapped her gaze back to Castle, his own head buried in a menu, perusing the dishes. She placed too fingers to the top of the menu, hooked them over the front, and tugged it down.

He met her eyes.

"Don't freak out," she said slowly, her voice low.

"If you start a sentence that way then I'm bound to freak out. What's wrong?"

She had to tell him. He was going to see her eventually anyway. "Don't turn around, but two tables behind us is Alexis."

"What?" He asked, surprised to hear his daughter was at the restaurant at the same time he was. He was twisting in his chair, to wave at her and smile, but Kate was quick to lay a hand on his arm and stop him from turning.

"Don't turn around," she repeated.

"Does she know we're here?"

Kate nodded. "Yes, she's seen us."

"Doesn't want to be seen in public with her old man, huh?"

Kate almost choked on the water she had just taken a sip of.

"You okay?" He asked, concerned.

She swallowed. "I think..." She faltered. "How about we just eat in tonight? Stop by that Thai place and get some food to go."

"Okay, who is she with? If you don't tell me I'm going to turn around."

Kate sighed. There was no way this was going to end well. "Try to be subtle when you turn around, Castle. _Try_."

He nodded, dropped his napkin and, in the worst display of subtly she had ever seen, turned as he picked his napkin up. His eyes locked on his daughter's, and he smiled. He was giving her a little wave, when her companion turned and followed Alexis' gaze - and Castle almost fell out of his chair.

He straightened himself, and looked at Beckett in shock.

"Tell me it's not a date," he said through clenched teeth.

"It's not a date?"

"Why does that sound like a question."

Kate chewed on her lower lip for a moment, contemplating just how much she should tell Castle of what she had seen. "Maybe it's not a date," she began slowly, "But I certainly don't kiss my friends like that."

Castle blanched. She'd never seen him turn quite so white. It didn't last long. His burning fury quickly colored his face red, and his fingers gripped at the table. "He's practically my age," Castle said in a low voice, with more than a hint of a growl in it.

* * *

She should have fled, right out of there, the moment her gut told her to. She should have listened. And she shouldn't have kissed him. Not in public, not like that.

It was too late now.

Detective Beckett had seen her, but that wasn't the problem now. The problem was her father, sitting two tables away, his body shaking in what she recognized as barely-controlled rage.

No. No, this wasn't going to end well at all.

She could take some comfort in knowing her father wouldn't make a scene, not in a busy restaurant where people might recognize him. Then... Why was he standing, shrugging Beckett's hand off his arm and ignoring the warning in her eyes, and why oh god why was he walking towards her.

* * *

"Castle," Kate warned, her voice low.

"I'm not going to yell," he promised her as he stood. "I'm just going to introduce myself."

Kate locked her eyes on him, shook her head. "I've been that age, trust me when I say this is not going to end well. Let her be."

Castle ignored her pleas, and walked quietly over to where his daughter sat. With each step he plotted the other man's demise in his head like only a mystery novelist could. Oh he knew so many ways to kill a man now, and too many ways to cover it up.

"Good evening, Alexis," He said kindly as he stopped beside her. "Didn't expect to see _my only daughter_ here tonight." His eyes locked on the man's as the word 'daughter' left his lips, and he was pleased to see some fear creep into the elitist asshole's gaze. No, he told himself, no judging. Give him a chance to redeem himself. "And who are you here with tonight?" He extended a hand across the table. "Richard Castle, Alexis' father," he introduced himself. It was all so casual, no one around them would even bat an eye at the exchange.

The man shook his hand firmly. "Samuel Collins," the man replied in a highbrow English accent. "Alexis' professor."

Samuel Collins? Really? Castle almost rolled his eyes at the ridiculousness of it all. The accent almost made him laugh, and he would have, had the word 'professor' not almost pushed him over the edge.

"You take your students out for dinner often?" He asked bluntly.

"Dad!" Alexis exclaimed from her chair. She stood quickly, her chair scraping loudly across the floor, and took her father's hand, pulling him away from the table while trying to keep from drawing further attention to them. "We need to talk. Now," she hissed, leading him towards the entrance to the restaurant.

"Oh, _I know_ we need to talk," he replied, his voice low, laced with anger.

* * *

Once outside, he moved them a few steps further down the sidewalk, away from the large windows and the prying eyes of the patrons, and turned to his daughter. "Don't you dare even think of telling me it isn't what it looks like," he warned.

Alexis inhaled a deep breath, before locking her eyes on her father's, matching fury burning in them. "It's exactly what it looks like," she replied, her voice too calm.

"You are not dating a man my age."

"I'm not, dad," she replied, keeping her tone low. "He's older than you."

If Richard Castle had ever thought he was having a heart attack in the past, he most definitely was now. Because there was no other way to describe the searing, vice-like pain in his heart. He placed a hand to his chest, before it scraped up his face and raked through his hair. "How long has this been going on?" He wheezed.

Alexis stood tall, her arms folded across her chest, her eyes cold. "That's none of your business."

"You're not dating your professor," he almost yelled, barely managing to keep his tone low.

"You have no control over who I date, Dad," she reminded him angrily. "I'm nineteen. I'm not your little girl anymore."

His heart broke then, shattering into more pieces than he could count. "You'll always be my little girl," he replied softly.

Alexis' expression softened as she watched her father's shoulders slump and his eyes take on a watery appearance. She hadn't meant for him to find out this way; she hadn't meant for him to find out at all. "I'm sorry, Dad, but he treats me with respect. He's a good man, Dad. For those reasons, I'm not ending what he and I have going on."

"And what do you have going on?" He asked plainly.

"I don't exactly know," she replied honestly, "but it's nice. It's interesting. He's erudite and yes, okay, a little elitist but he's still a good man, and he cares about me."

He could drag her back home, lock her up in her bedroom forever, and protect her for the rest of his life. Or he could let her go, let her grow up and make these mistakes, and pick up the pieces of both his heart and hers every time she came running to him once it ended. He liked the first option better, but it wasn't realistic, he knew.

"You're going back in there?"

Alexis nodded firmly. "I'm not ditching him, Dad. Not even something as embarrassing as having my dad crash my date will stop me from having dinner with Samuel tonight."

He glanced over his daughter's shoulder as movement caught his eye, and nodded to Beckett, who stood off to the side, watching them intently.

* * *

Kate had exited the restaurant not long after father and daughter had rushed out, and she had stood nearby, far enough to not be obtrusive, but close enough to hear the conversation. She could see Castle struggling to hold it together, his worry for his daughter, and concern over the professor's intentions, overwhelming him. Slowly, cautiously, she stepped over to them, and placed a hand on Castle's arm. She smiled at Alexis, before holding Castle's gaze as she said, "I think we're going to call it a night." She raised her eyebrows to show she wasn't taking no for an answer.

He nodded, dejected. Holding his daughter's eyes again, he said, in the tone of a man completely broken, "We'll talk about this later."

"Can't wait," Alexis replied in a snippy tone. When she felt Beckett's eyes on her, she met them briefly, saw the anger in them, and sighed. "I'm sorry, Dad, I really am. We'll talk soon," she conceded.

Castle nodded, and reached for Kate's hand, gripping it. "Please be careful, Pumpkin," he pleaded.

"I will," she replied softly. "I'm going back to my dinner now, and the man I've left all alone back there. Goodnight, Dad, Kate." She was still getting used to calling Detective Beckett by her first name, but the woman had given her a gift tonight by stepping over to them, and changing their own plans. In that moment she was Kate.

"Goodnight, Alexis. Enjoy your date."

Kate felt Castle's eyes boring into her at her words, but she ignored it, squeezing his hand instead to show it was okay, that this date wasn't the end of the world.

Alexis didn't hug her father. She turned on her heel and marched back to the restaurant to apologize profusely to her stranded date.

* * *

Castle slumped back against the brick wall behind him, tugging Kate back with him. She moved to stand in front of him, and took his other hand so she was holding them both. She pressed her body up against his, and pressed a kiss to his down-turned lips. She pulled back, looked up at him, and smiled. "As someone who was once a teenage girl, believe me when I say the relationship won't last."

"How long?" He asked, hopeful.

She pursed her lips, shrugging slightly. "I'm sorry, Castle. I can't answer that."

"My little girl," he lamented.

"Is growing up," Kate finished softly. "She isn't the first college student to date a professor, and she won't be the last, Castle. And if you come down hard on her for this, if you try to stop it, she's going to act out. Believe me, Castle. You don't want that."

"Did you?" He asked, his voice strained.

"Did I date a professor?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

"Professor, Training Officer, not a lot of difference when you get down to it."

Oh. Royce. Castle sighed, and pulled her against him. He released her hands, and wrapped his arms around her, breathing in her warm, comforting, familiar scent. "So, Thai from that place we love? Dinner at home?" He asked against her neck, his lips brushing her skin.

"Sounds good," she agreed, before burying her face into his shirt, and calming him with her touch.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

**AN: These stories have gotten decidedly more serious with each chapter. I promise to bring the funny in Chapter 5 (if there is a chapter 5, of course).  
**


	5. Chapter 5

**Timeline: Set two days after _Always_, takes place prior to all other chapters. **

**A little bit of a shift in style - because it felt right.  
**

* * *

Castle might just be pushing his luck, and he's aware of this, but that won't stop him from sliding his hand over her toned thigh. His short fingernail scratches up the seam at her inner-thigh, following a trail leading him ever higher, to the junction where he craves to be. She's wearing jeans, and he hates that a little. He should have enforced a dress code. _Dress_ being the operative word. The shorter the better. Light fabrics only. That way, when his hand skimmed up her thigh, his fingertips would be grazing her skin, and not the rough denim barrier currently taunting him.  
Her eyes are fixed on the screen, absorbed in the first of a pile of John Woo films they picked out for the evening. The double-feature, the one they never quite got around to watching after Alexis's graduation, now threatening to become a movie marathon.

Kate's not as captivated by the scenes unfolding on the screen as she appears, and she'll freely admit she stopped paying attention to the movie a few minutes ago when his hand started trailing up her thigh. She's trying to stay composed, pretending his fingers skimming up her denim-clad thigh isn't the reason she's feeling a sudden warmth within, isn't why her face is probably starting to take on a pinker hue. In her peripheral vision she sees his head turn slightly. He's watching her, waiting, wondering who will make the next move.

He spent the first twenty minutes of the film beside her, his side pressed to hers, but nothing more. She suppressed the smirk as his hand slowly lifted from his lap and settled on her knee. Two days in, and they're still trying to push past the slightly awkward flare that lights up around them when the need to touch becomes too great. But then she rolled her eyes at him, covered his hand with hers, and dragged his touch higher up her thigh, closer to where she needed him.

She can feel the heat from his hand through the denim, and it burns along her skin, fires up into hot, desperate arousal, and collects between her legs. She just wants his hands on her, everywhere.

She squirms slightly on the couch, the movie forgotten as his fingers graze up the zipper of her pants, teasingly slow as they travel up to pop the dome. He's poised to drag her zip down - when his hand freezes, his head snaps to the side to glance at the door. He pulls his hand back then, and gestures for her to fix her pants.

And then she hears it too. A key in a lock, the door opening.

She tugs her shirt over the top of her jeans, knowing she won't have time to do them up.

Alexis bursts into the loft, carefree, happy, and exhausted. "Dad?" She calls through the room.

"In here, Pumpkin," he calls back. What else can he say?

"Hi, Detective Beckett," she greets Kate, before wrapping her arms around her father from behind the couch, kissing his cheek. "Hi, Dad."

Neither correct Alexis. She doesn't need to know Beckett resigned.

"Missed you, Sweetie," he says effortlessly, as though he wasn't just seconds away from ravishing the woman sitting beside him. The amazing woman, who is currently clasping her hands in her lap, hiding the fact she's clenching her top in her fist and keeping it low.

"Missed you too." She releases her father and looks over his shoulder at the television. "What are you watching?"

Castle reaches for the remote, pausing the film. "_The Killer_."

Alexis scrunches up her nose. "John Woo," she replies. She glances over towards the kitchen. "I'm going to make a sandwich and head to bed." She kisses her father's cheek again. "Good night, Dad. 'Night, Detective."

They bid her goodnight. Castle presses play on the DVD remote and they settle. They can do it; in front of others they can act like two friends, co-workers, who tonight just happen to be watching a film and enjoying each others company.

The distance between them has increased since the interruption, but this must quickly be rectified. Kate slips her heels off, and draws her legs up until her feet rest between them on the couch. She presses her toes into the side of his thigh, nudging him gently, letting him know she's still there, waiting.

Sandwich in hand, Alexis breezes past them, bidding them another cheery goodnight as she heads up the stairs.

And then she's gone.

Kate chuckles softly as she exhales, her toes massaging Castle's leg.

"So, where were we?" He asks playfully. His hand moves to settle on her foot. When his fingertip grazes lightly across her skin, and he feels her foot jerk slightly, he grins widely. "Why, I do believe you are ticklish."

She shakes her head, vehemently denying it, but it's all in vain. His fingers sweep across the sole of her foot, and she can't stop her body from reacting to his touch.

He isn't an idiot, he doesn't push his luck, well aware he'll soon get a foot in the nose if he continues. He doesn't doubt for a second that Kate could be capable of pulling some crazy Kung Fu move and hit him square in the face, all the while her body barely shifting from her seated position on the couch. Instead, he trails his fingers to the hem of her jeans, slipping under to circle her warm ankle.

He just wants her out of those jeans. The damn denim is getting in his way.

She slides her top up, drawing her lower lip between her teeth as she does so, the movement demanding his attention. The dome's still undone, and, with a smile playing on her lips, she drags the zip down, revealing more of her lingerie to him.

He can't breathe then. He just wants her so badly. Wants to throw her across the length of the couch, drag that tight denim down her long legs, and tease her with his tongue, with his fingers, until she screams his name.

A bedroom door closing loudly, footfalls at the top of the stairs, reminds him they're not alone.

Kate calmly rearranges her shirt, bats Castle's hand away, and turns to smile at the teen descending the stairs. She hands Castle a cushion for his lap as she greets Alexis again.

"You okay, Sweetie?" Castle asks, cushion in place, voice somewhat steady, mostly lust-free.

Alexis nods, wandering past them into the kitchen. "Water," is all she replies as she roots around in the fridge for a bottle.

They wait, pretend to focus on the film, but Alexis is taking her sweet time.

And then enough is enough.

Kate reaches for the remote, stops the film, fakes an audible yawn, and says, loud enough for Alexis to hear, "It's late. See you tomorrow?"

Alexis, bottle of water in hand, closes the fridge and heads for the stairs, her eyelids heavy, her feet dragging, too tired to even bid them goodnight or care about the conversation.

Castle looks momentarily distraught, before a subtle wink from Kate catches him up. "Yeah." He turns and sees Alexis disappear around the corner at the top of the staircase. He stands, offers Kate his hand, and pulls her to her feet. She leans down to pick up her shoes, before dropping his hand and wandering towards his bedroom. The second she enters his room, he sprints to the front door, opens it, says a loud, "Goodnight, Beckett," and shuts it soundly, in case ears upstairs should be listening.

She stretches her long body across the width of his bed, on her back, legs parted just slightly. She watches silently as he turns the lock on both bedroom doors, ensuring no more interruptions.

Toeing off his shoes, he tugs his shirt over his head and makes his way quickly to the bed - and to the grinning woman waiting for him.

* * *

**AN: Labeling this as complete, because I've had my fun and it's time to move on from this one :-)  
**

**_Thoughts?_  
**


End file.
